The flame in Lyan's lantern wavered softly, casting restless shadows that danced across the old maps scattered haphazardly on his desk. Each shifting shadow seemed to echo the uncertainty lingering in the corners of his mind. He paused, exhaling slowly, watching the candlelight flicker, the flame almost hesitant—as if sensing the gravity of the moment.
Quill poised steadily between his fingers, he drew a slow, deep breath before continuing to write, each stroke meticulously calculated. The final line of his letter to Prince Erich carried the heavy weight of strategy, a subtle blend of truth and careful deception. His hand moved smoothly, the ink a stark contrast against the crisp parchment:
"Beware court whispers, for trust is the coin most cheaply spent and yet most dearly missed."
